Passages
by spicygoodness
Summary: Brenda experiences a traumatic life change.  How will she pick up the pieces?  Brenda/Fritz  Brenda/Flynn Character death.
1. Chapter 1

Will Pope had always hated notifications. No matter how much you tried to mitigate the news it was never easy. The reactions varied. Some people cried, screamed, begged for the news to be wrong. Others became quiet, withdrawn, turning in on themselves in an effort to guard against complete collapse. Witnessing as families are wrenched apart and lives upended was the worst part of the job.

Will walks silently through the halls of the LAPD with two FBI agents trailing in his wake. Those he passes can sense the heaviness of his mood and move out of the way. As he turns into the corridor that leads to Major Crimes Will pauses, gifting a few more precious seconds of peace, of normalcy. As he enters the room he is not surprised to see the squad sitting at their desks working on the paperwork to complete their case, which had been closed late that afternoon. As the officers hear him enter they look up. They are confused to see him here this late and even more perplexed given his companions.

Will does not acknowledge them but continues walking towards the back of the squad room. He sees her through the glass, hunched over her desk reading a file. Despite the shift in their relationship over the years he still finds her beautiful, will always love and care for her just a little more than he should. He knocks on her door and opens it.

"Chief Pope" she says as she looks up, surprised to see him intruding into her office at this hour. "What can I do for you?"

"Brenda." He uses her first name. A clear sign something is not the way it should be. The look in her eyes shifts the tiniest bit as curiosity and concern take hold.

Will walks further into the room with the agents following close behind him. "This is Agent Rickert and Agent Thompson. They have some information they need to share with you." Will sees her smile at the agents and hears her offer a hello. He immediately feels guilty. Feels like he has weaseled out setting her up for an even harder fall. He pulls the blinds to her office causing Brenda's curiosity to pique once again.

"I'll be outside" he says and escapes before Brenda can stop him.

The rest of her squad looks to him expectantly for an explanation to the late night visit and their FBI guests. Will steps to the front of the room, clearing his throat. Once he says it, it's real but he must tell them before the agents are finished in Brenda's office. "At 4:00pm this afternoon there was an FBI raid, which included Agent Howard, on a local club whose owner is suspected to have ties to a South American drug cartel. Somehow the owner was tipped to the raid and a gunfight ensued." Will paused but he could see the beginnings of understanding in the officers' expressions. "During the course of the gunfight, Agent Howard was shot in both the neck and head. All attempts were made to . . . he was declared dead upon arrival at the hospital."

Nobody spoke, not even Flynn who normally wanted to talk about everything. All worked ceased and everyone's attention was fully focused on the office behind them. After what seemed like an eternity the door to Brenda's office opened and the FBI agents exited. Will looked at them expectantly.

"She asked us to leave. She wants to be alone for awhile," said Agent Rickert. "We will be contacting her further in the next few days to make arrangements."

"I don't know how wise it is for her to be alone right now," stated Will.

"She told us to get out," said Thompson, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. "People cope in their own way. You know that as well as we do."

Will and the rest of Major Crimes watched the FBI agents leave and returned to their silent vigil for the woman alone in her office.


	2. Chapter 2

Brenda couldn't breathe. She was certain if she moved in even the smallest way she would shatter. Fritz was dead. Her husband was dead. It had always been a possibility, for either of them, given the careers they had chosen. The potential had lived in the back of her mind but she had never really considered it.

The words of the FBI agents played again and again.

"We regret to inform you."

"They did everything they could."

"Our deepest condolences."

When they were done she had asked them to leave. Finally telling them to get out when they did not exit quickly enough. Brenda knew she was in shock and that soon the thick-mindedness and immutable terror she felt would pass. So many things swirled in her mind, the need to call her parents and call Claire. She sat at her desk for the longest time just breathing. If she could just breathe she would be okay.

"I have to make funeral arrangements." The thought comes and goes in a millisecond but causes the pressure in her chest to increase ten fold. She is beginning to break, can feel it starting deep within her. She needs to go home. She mindlessly gathers her things and walks to the door of her office and stops. Her squad was out there. She was certain they all knew by now. She didn't know how she was going to get out of the office. She didn't want to see anybody or to talk to anybody. She just needs to go home. Home to the house she shared with Fritz. The pressure in her chest increases again and she remains still until she feels she can control it.

Brenda opens the door and walks out into the squad room. Her people are holding a collective breath unsure of what to say or do. She sees Will standing at the front of the room and it occurs to her that he knew. When he brought those agents into her office he already knew. She sees him step toward her.

"I need to go home," she says and maneuvers slightly towards the door.

"I'll drive you," Will says.

She doesn't want that.

"No, no, I'm fine, I just need to go home." Even Brenda realizes how ridiculous it sounds as soon as it comes out of her mouth. Her voice cracking just enough that they all notice.

Will counters, "I don't think it is a good idea for you to be driving right now."

Brenda pauses. She can see the logic in this knowing cognitively that operating a vehicle in her current state is not the best idea. But she doesn't want to be near Will or anyone else for that matter. Then she sees him. Sitting quietly at his desk watching her steadily, his face flooded with concern. She has seen him with the grieving families of victims. While in the rest of his work he is akin to a bull in a china shop he has a way with grief. If she just doesn't have to talk.

"Lt. Flynn," she says, to the surprise of everyone, most of all Flynn, her voice cracking slightly again, "would you be so kind as to drive me home?" She doesn't give her usual smile, just stares at the floor.

"Yes ma'am," he says quietly getting up and walking towards her. He sees the squad exchanging concerned looks. He has no idea why she picked him. Pope or Gabriel, even Provenza, would have been the more predictable choice. He reaches her and his hand hovers but doesn't quite touch her elbow as his body's motion guides her towards the exit. The rest of the squad watches silently as they depart.

* * *

Flynn quietly walks her through the halls to the elevator. His presence and demeanor keeps anyone they encounter at bay. Once in the elevator he presses the button for the lobby. He looks at her and can feel the tension flowing off her body.

"Chief . . ." he starts.

"I don't want to talk," she snaps but it lacks her usual ferocity, sounding more like a plea than a command. Flynn accepts this and guides her to the car holding the door as she slides inside. He will make arrangements with someone tomorrow to get her car to her.

The drive to her house is silent. Flynn can hear her controlled breathing. He suspects it is what is holding her together. He has dealt with grief before and he has dealt with Brenda before. At some point she is going to break and he expects it will be rending. She shouldn't be left alone until her family can get here. The challenge is finding a way for her to let him stay. For her to let them all take care of her, as he is fairly certain that she has no close friends beyond her work.

He pulls into her driveway and gets out to walk around and open her door. Brenda makes no move to get out of the car. Flynn finally speaks, "Chief, I need you to come inside." She looks up at him then as if she has been lost. "Yes, of course," she says quietly and exits the car.

He walks her to the door and waits patiently as she opens it. As he starts to follow her inside she pauses and turns to him blocking his entry into the house, "Lt. I'll be fine. You go on now." She just wants to be alone.

"Ma'am," his voice is low and his tone soothing, "You need someone to stay with you. I realize you don't want to talk. I'm sure you just want to be alone but someone should be here, if you need them." He can see her determination waning and it pains him to see her so vulnerable when she is usually anything but. "Please, let me stay."

She says nothing but moves out of his way allowing him to enter and shut the door. The cat slinks into the living room greeting her and rubbing against her legs to be fed. Their cat, the kitten she hadn't wanted but Fritz knew she needed. Functioning on auto pilot Brenda moves through the house preparing for the night. Fritz is everywhere and she feels herself starting to crack. Flynn remains standing in the living room, watching her silently, hands in his pockets.

"I can get you some pillows and blankets," she said hoarsely her throat feeling raw. Her defenses were failing and soon she will lose herself to her grief. She needs to be away from Flynn when that happens.

"I'm good. I'll just watch some TV I think," said Flynn. "Can I do anything? Call your parents?"

"No, I'll, um, call them in the morning," she says.

"Okay," he says sitting down on the sofa. "If you need anything, let me know."

She looks at him for a long moment, feels an errant tear stream down her face. She wipes it away quickly hoping he doesn't notice. "Thank you, Lt," she says softly and walks back into the bedroom. Brenda numbly removes her clothes and crawls into bed, their bed, and she finally lets herself think that her husband is dead. She thinks about this life and this house that they have built together and she still smells his scent on the pillow that she clutches and then it comes. All the grief that is stored up inside her body. It feels like it is trying to release itself all at once and she buries her head in his pillow and sobs letting the waves of grief wash over her.

Flynn has removed his shoes, jacket and tie. This is as relaxed as he will get tonight. The TV is on with the volume barely audible. He hears the Chief moving around preparing for bed. He worries for her and his heart aches for her. He would never admit it but he is an emotional man. He feels deeply for the things and the people he cares about and he has a particular soft spot for Brenda Leigh Johnson. The movements go quiet and then he hears it, the muffled sounds of her finally breaking. There is nothing to be done other than to sit watch over her until the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

Brenda awakens the next morning to the smell of brewing coffee. She had rested fitfully during the night vacillating between sleep and tears. Hoping that in the morning it would all just be a bad dream. She lies in bed, the numbness still there permeating everything around her. She doesn't want to face Lt. Flynn in her kitchen. She doesn't want to have to call her parents and Fritz's sister to inform them of his death. For the first time in her life she just wants to hide. Pull the covers over her head and stay there until it feels like things will be better.

After a long while she talks herself into getting up. While in the bathroom Brenda catches sight of her red eyes and puffy face in the mirror. She thinks that this is her first personal experience with real loss. Acquaintances, friends and even a few colleagues had passed away and she had felt sadness and sorrow but this, Fritz's death, made her feel as if she had been ripped into pieces. She can't find the fortitude to change out of her pajamas and slips on her old, brown sweater. Even this well worn piece of clothing does not provide the comfort it usually does. She begins to think that nothing will ever feel normal again.

She walks into the kitchen expecting to see Lt. Flynn and dreads having to face him. She appreciates what he did for her last night but doesn't like the idea of having appeared so vulnerable in front of him and is embarrassed by it. Instead she finds Sgt. Gabriel and Det. Daniels sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee. "Chief," Det. Daniels says standing and walking towards her, "I am so sorry," and she embraces Brenda.

Brenda tenses, murmuring her thanks and returning the embrace only slightly and awkwardly. This is what it will be like now she thinks. People offering their condolences when all she wants is for everyone to leave her alone and let her grieve in peace. Her deeply ingrained manners take over. "Can I get you anything Detective," she asks.

"No," replies Det. Daniels. "Why don't you let me get you some coffee, Chief."

"No, no I can get it. I'm fine," Brenda says. Her tone is bright, the one that she knows makes her sound like a complete lunatic. She turns to the counter and pours a mug of coffee. "I'm fine," she says again but this time her tone is lower. "I need to call my parents."

"Actually," Sgt. Gabriel says standing up, "Chief Pope wanted me to let you know he called them, and Claire, for you last night. Your parents are on their way and should be here early this evening. Sanchez and I are going to get them from the airport for you."

Brenda turned from the counter staring at him. "Oh." She is unsure how to respond. A part of her is relieved that she is no longer required to make those phone calls. It saves her from having to say the words because she is not sure if she can. Yet she feels like she has been robbed somehow. He is her husband. He is her responsibility. She walks over to the kitchen table and sits, staring into her mug. "I've got to go back to the office," Gabriel says, "I'll come back by later."

Brenda looks up at him and nods. "Okay." Gabriel and Daniels exchange worried looks. Neither had ever seen the Chief dismiss a comment about work. They had expected that it would take the two of them to keep her from going into the office. This Chief, the broken one sitting at a table holding onto her coffee mug as if it was the only force grounding her to the universe, was foreign to them.

"What about Claire? Who is getting her?" Brenda asks.

"She's being taken care of, Chief. Don't worry," Gabriel says. He places his hand on her shoulder for a moment and squeezes it. Trying to provide some comfort.

Gabriel exits leaving Daniels with Brenda. They sit at the table for awhile and then Brenda gets up. She decides she needs to do something, anything, to help to shake the numbness and the grief she is drowning in. Brenda spends the next few hours straightening and cleaning the house. Daniels offers to assist her but each time Brenda turns her down. She doesn't want camaraderie or sympathy. She wants to push back everything that she is feeling because the breadth of it is too much to bear if she does nothing.

Although she has avoided thinking of Fritz all day, standing at the kitchen washing up the last of the dishes Brenda thinks about how humorous he would find this situation. Her in the kitchen, during the middle of the work day, washing dishes. He tolerated her disinterest in housework and the focus with which she attacked her job but at times his annoyance would get the better of him. It isn't until Daniels asks if she is okay that Brenda notices the unchecked tears rolling down her face. Brenda does not answer but wipes her face with gloves wet with dishwater and finishes her task. When she is done she removes the gloves and turns to Daniels. She sees the worry and the empathy in Daniels' eyes and while Brenda know she should appreciate it she wants none of it.

"I'm fine," Brenda says and walks back towards the bedroom to shower and change.

As the day passes on flowers and food begin to filter into the house. The typical fare you would expect for such an event. Lt. Tao's wife even stops by to offer her condolences and a casserole dish. Brenda is curled up on the couch blindly watching the television when Gabriel and Sanchez arrive with her parents. The greeting is awkward. Her parents embrace her unsure what to say and she is incapable of saying or doing anything to assuage their concern. She thanks Gabriel, Sanchez and Daniels as they leave and her parents settle into the guest room.

The three of them pick at the proffered food. There is mercifully little conversation and Brenda soon excuses herself to bed unable anymore to fend off the grief that gnaws at her. As she lies in bed she can hear the low conversation between her parents. Tomorrow she will need to start planning Fritz's funeral. The thought is overwhelming and the desire to hide from the world grips her again. Brenda feels silent tears trailing down her face and feels the bed move beneath her. She had not heard her mother enter the room but now Brenda turns and, though she has not done so since she was a child, she curls up with her head in her mother's lap and Willie Rae holds her while Brenda cries herself to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for hanging in there. Brenda/Flynn goodness to come. Please read and review.

* * *

The days leading up to the funeral are a complete blur and Brenda thinks she will never have a clear recollection of them. She has no idea how she would have handled all the arrangements without her parents' help. The members of her squad continues to drop in over these days to check on her and offer assistance where and when they can, except for Flynn. Brenda has not seen Flynn since that first night. She doesn't understand why but then has not had the time or capacity to dwell upon the question either.

The morning of the funeral she awakens early and takes her time getting ready. It seems silly but she wants to look her best, one last time, for him. While the initial grief and numbness have passed the prospect of getting through today's events is daunting. She has made the decision to not speak at the funeral. She has never been comfortable with public speaking even more so when it involved emotion. Sitting at her table putting on the last of her make-up Brenda thought about what she would have said. How Fritz was a good man. That he had loved and accepted her despite all of her shortcomings and flaws. That he had challenged her to be better than she was because he knew she could be.

Brenda can smell the breakfast her mother is cooking and knows she must leave this room and face this day. She heads into the kitchen.

"Good morning," her father says.

"Morning," Brenda replies. Her mother sits a plate of food in front of Brenda which she picks at it. Her voracious appetite has been absent from the beginning of this ordeal. Food, not even candy, had any appeal to her.

"Brenda," her mother starts "you need to eat."

"I know Mama, I'm just not hungry."

Her mother looks at her with concern. I'm okay, Mama, really," Brenda says and gets up giving her mother an awkward hug. "I'm okay."

A car service picks them up and takes them to the church for the funeral service.

As Brenda walks to take her seat at the front of the church she is overwhelmed by the amount of people in attendance. As she passes by she is relieved to see her squad there as well as Chief Pope and Commander Taylor. Claire is seated at the front of the church and next to her is Lt. Flynn. Brenda embraces Claire and nods at Flynn then takes her seat. The service is over quickly, Brenda barely taking everything in. Those in attendance move to the cemetery for the burial. Brenda manages to hold herself together. She will say her goodbyes later when she can do so privately.

After the service a reception is held back at the house. People mill in and out offering their condolences and attempts at solace. Many share with Brenda stories of Fritz and their interaction with him. Hoping to comfort her with shared history and reassurances of what kind of man he was. Brenda soon feels overcome with the attention and sneaks off to be alone. Hoping her absence will go unnoticed for at least awhile.

* * *

Flynn had not seen Brenda since that morning he had left. Gabriel had come by, surprisingly with Daniels in tow, to relieve him so he could go home and get some rest. Before leaving Flynn had peeked into the master bedroom to check on Brenda. She was curled up in the bed sound asleep but the her eyes were swollen and her face was puffy. His affection for her runs deep and he wanted nothing more than to comfort her but could not think of anything that she would welcome or that would be appropriate. She looked cold and he took a chance walking in to pull her blanket up over her shoulders. By instinct he reached out to smooth her hair and caught himself just in time. He didn't want to risk waking her or having to explain why he was in her bedroom.

When Flynn returned to the living room Gabriel told him that Pope had called the Claire and the Chief's parents. Instead of comforting the Chief he took the opportunity to do something that would actually be helpful, Flynn had offered to take care of Claire. She would know no one else in town and the Chief was in no condition to deal with Claire's particular personality. Flynn had picked Claire up at the airport that evening and was not surprised to find her as effusive in her grief as she was in everything else.

Lt. Flynn has finally managed to leave Claire in the care of a couple of Fritz's colleagues and is enjoying the respite from her. He was tucked away in the corner of the living room talking with Provenza. Flynn sees the Chief's mother approaching and moves out of the chair to let her sit.

"Willie Rae," says Provenza, "How are you doing?"

"Good, good Lt. Provenza. Thank you so much for coming," looking at Flynn Willie Rae adds "both of you. And thank you Lt. Flynn for taking such good care of Claire the past few days."

"My pleasure, ma'am. Anything I can do," replies Flynn.

Willie Rae and Provenza continue to chat for a few minutes and Flynn allows his mind to wander scanning the crowd. Then he hears Willie Rae say, "I haven't seen Brenda in a while. I wonder where she has gone off to."

"I could go look for her," Flynn's mouth offers before his mind can catch up.

"That would be wonderful Lt. I'm worried for her."

"We all are Willie Rae," Provenza adds as Flynn excuses himself.

Flynn meanders through the house looking for Brenda and not finding her. He finally comes to the closed door of the second bedroom and opens it to look in. He sees a wisp of blond hair on the opposite side of the bed and enters the room pulling the door shut again. If she hears him she does not let him know. He circles around and looks down to see her leaned against the side of the bed. She looks up at him briefly and then looks back down again. It is clear she has been crying.

Flynn steps over her and settles beside her on the floor leaning his back against the bed as well. They sit in silence.

"Your mother is looking for you," He says finally. "She's worried about you."

Brenda nods but remains silent.

"We're all worried about you," Flynn states. He doesn't expect a response but thinks she needs to hear it. To know that when she is ready she does not have to be alone.

He looks up and sees that they are sitting facing a murder board. There is a picture of Stroh in the upper corner of the board and other reports and pictures scattered across it. He knew the Chief was haunted by this case but had not realized the extent of her obsession until now.

"I don't know how to make everybody else feel better," Brenda says jolting Flynn out of his reverie. He looks over at her "That's not your job," he says. She is fiddling with the tissue in her lap.

"I wish they would all just leave."

Flynn eyes her for a moment, "I can make that happen," he says and there is not a hint of teasing in his voice. She looks at him then and realizes he would. If she said the word he would go and forcibly remove every single person from this house until she was satisfied. The realization causes a wave of relief to wash over her. It is a comfort that she can not explain.

"No, no. That wouldn't do," she says and moves her gaze back down to her lap. The silence takes over once again.

"Fritz wanted to have children." Brenda says. "He wanted to turn this room into a nursery but I told him no." She has no idea why she is telling Flynn this but the words are tumbling out of her. Brenda looks up at the murder board and over at Flynn who is watching her carefully. "I didn't want kids but maybe I should have. . . ." and her voice trails off as a fresh wave of tears starts. Flynn feels like a piece of himself is breaking seeing her in this much pain. Nobody should have to hurt like this especially not her. He moves quietly offering his hand to her, because he can think of nothing else to do, and she takes it holding him with a force that's surprising. Finally gathering herself she finishes, "I was selfish. I could have learned to be happy."

"Nobody can learn to be happy with something they don't want, Chief," he says. "Believe me I've tried. It's no use trying to convince yourself otherwise." She looks over at him, her eyes big and wet with tears. She is surprised to hear him say that. She wonders what it means and realizes that of all of her team members Flynn is the one she knows the least about. It feels like such an odd thought to have at a moment like this.

"We should go back out there I guess," she says halfheartedly. Using her free hand to wipe her face and nose with a tissue. Her other hand is still gripping desperately to Flynn's and she isn't sure she ever wants to let it go.

"We can stay in here as long as you want." Flynn reassures her and gives her hand a quick squeeze.

"You've been taking care of Claire?" she asks changing the subject.

"Yes," Flynn responds feeling his face falling into a smirk. "For five very, very long days." He feels like he shouldn't tease her. Not now when she is going through so much but pawning Claire Howard off on each other had become a running joke and he can't help himself.

She doesn't say anything for a moment and he fears he has screwed up. Then she squeezes his hand even tighter and says, "I believe that it's called taking one for the team, Lt."

He cuts his eyes over at her, surprised. He sees the hint of a smile shadow across her face and thinks that just maybe she'll be okay. She moves to get up and he stands pulling her to her feet. He grabs another tissue from the box on the night table and hands it to her. "Thank you," she says and its meant to cover much more territory than just a tissue. Without warning she hugs him wrapping her arms around his middle and holding onto him tight. After a second of hesitation he returns the embrace and brings his hand up smoothing her hair like he wanted to do that morning five days ago.

"Anytime, Chief," he says softly, "you know where to find me," and he means it. He thinks he would go to the ends of earth if she asked him to. She lets him go and turns to leave. Flynn places a hand on the small of her back and guides her back out to the living room.


End file.
